Ope, got a little typo there, Bobby, sweetheart, you meant to say "the grey is sooooo distinguished and sooooo sexy how do you manage walking around being so handsome all the time you must be so tired come lay your head on my perfect pectorals and have a rest". Easy mistake to make.
[there's a brief pause wherein corry considers whether he is the one in the wrong, being inherently normie, or whether this place is just sort of batshit insane. as always, the answer is evident.]
That's fucked up too. These guys killed your friends -- eviscerate them, sounds like -- but they get a pass because...what, death doesn't stick here? Doesn't make you a bummer, Bob, makes you a guy who cares about who's his. Makes you human.
I mean. Someone puts their hands on someone of mine, I'm haunting them for the rest of their lives. However many lives they got doesn't matter, just more opportunities to make them pay.
[normal guy stuff to say! anyways!]
Best seat in the house's gonna be the one you bring, sweetheart. Big fan of that one. One of my favorites.
hey you ever want me to carry you you only gotta ask
[ :) ]
no that’s exactly how i feel i told saber im never shutting up, even if he has his bundy girls defending him, and the second he looks at my friends again, i’m launching him through a fucking window that’s half the reason i’m ani’s bodyguard at the slip the last girl who turned him down had her head bashed in with a rock her name was sarah, and she didn’t come back with the others
[ it feels important, somehow, to remember her name. nobody else does. ]
then i’ll be there, corry you’re like the best person they’ve brought here in ages
Like a princess? It'll need to be like a princess, I have exacting standards.
[if he jokes, he won't have to think about the little flutter the thought gives him.]
Pausing momentarily to give the deeply hot bodyguard-Bob mental image the respect it deserves.
All right, anyway -- good on you. Don't let anyone make you feel stupid for that, hear me? You're allowed to protect your people. You're allowed to remember who hurt them and who hurt you and you don't owe them shit. Sarah. We know why she didn't come back?
[best person -- undeserved, unwarranted, selfishly taken and held somewhere, locked into a safe with the memory of how bob grins when he's blissed out and hazy, how he looks in corry’s bed.]
Nah, I'm a dick. Probably distract you from the show if you sit by me, piss everyone else off. Dick move. Dick guy. Big dick. Etc.
Hang around the good ones, though, so maybe it'll rub off on me. Wouldn't mind you rubbing off on me, sometime. 😏
we don’t know why it happened to one person who died in october the previous year too so just be careful and call me if you ever need help
[ when they’ve had two okay months, which means something bad is coming, surely — when corry is here and trying to make him feel better. ]
you keep saying you’re a dick but you’re nice to me so i guess i’m sitting by you and letting you piss everyone else off they can charge me for aiding and abetting or whatever
And be as mad as you wanna. As long as you wanna. Doesn't make you a bad person for not getting over it in three months.
October, right. Things happen in waves -- cycles, whatever. Good month, bad month. January was more good than bad, excluding the damn portrait jumpscare, so we're overdue?
You'll be the first one I call if shit goes sideways, sweetheart, I promise.
[murder and mayhem and malice in february mean nothing to corry right now, a man of the moment, softening at aiding and abetting like its valentines flowers.]
Yeah, cause I'm sweet on you. Shhh. Don't blow my cover, its a secret.
Shouldn't be the first person to say it, but I'll say it regardless. As many times as you need.
[deliberate echo back -- make it quiet as often as you need. another offer, another tether, dangerous and risky and impossible to resist making.]
I like you noisy. But I'd like to see how quiet you can be, too. If I told you to. If I said I wanted you to be very, very good for me. Could you, then?
[silly, corny, balancing out the fact that he wants to offer to eviscerate anyone who's ever made bob miserable -- in a casual, chill way of course.]
I bet you could. You're so good at being good for me. Of course, I have a very, very good memory. I remember exactly what made you so noisy for me, all the times before. How much you like my hand in your hair, my fingers in your mouth. How to make you whine for me. I could make things even harder. Think you could still be nice and quiet, sweetheart? Even if I'm trying my best to make you moan my name?
That was funny and you laughed and I know that in my bones.
No, not fair at all. Absolutely unfair, playing when I know I can make you lose. What do you think will happen if you mess up, with me? Think I'll be nice and forgiving, or think I'll be stern about it and punish you?
[not the actual question -- he can do either, be either, be indulgent or the disciplinarian. the real question is, which does bob want?]
[ it feels a little like a pop quiz, and he immediately wonders if there’s a wrong answer — but corry had taken his cues from bob last time, so. maybe not. maybe it’s just leading him where he doesn’t yet know to go. and if the game’s rigged, if corry’s admitting as much, it must be okay to lose.
(give him a moment to scream into his hands, face impossibly hot.) ]
you could punish me if you wanted
[ strange, that where he had to say to embry. just don’t hit me, not in the face, not like that, corry already knows it’s a fine line to tread. ]
and you could be stern but not i think it’d be hard if you thought i wouldn’t get better
[there is no wrong answer, not for this, not when corry remembers how his whole body seized up and his brain went staticky-blank the first time someone smacked him (playfully, sexily, in fun) and the throb in his cheek set off a chain reaction he thought he'd exorcised. bob could shut it down right there, and corry would let it lie, never bring it up again.
but he thinks about the full-body shiver when he'd swatted bob's ass the last time they were together, thinks about how when corry'd got it right, got it good, pain became another door out of that blank static. he thinks about another way to make things quiet.]
You don't need to get better, sweetheart. There's not a damn thing wrong with you. If you mess up, it's cause I rigged it, made it impossible from the start, cause I WANTED you to get all noisy and needy for me. If I turn around and put that on you, I'm not doing my job. My job's taking care of you, remember?
So I correct you cause it's fun, then I make it a game you can win next time. You let me punish you because you know it's not your fault and we're just playing, and I make it easier. Give your pretty mouth something else to do so you don't lose next round. Make sense?
communication is sexy??? (cw refs to dubcon, unsafe sex)
[ dots flicker across the screen and disappear again. there have been times this hasn’t gone well, yes — when one misstep blotted out the whole of the night, or when it felt okay the night of but the next day, his shame rose like a leviathan.
those people never really talked to him, before or after, and they probably never could have understood, the way corry already does. ]
makes sense i know you wouldn’t i know you’d take care of me, i mean
[it could be argued that the research, the talking before and during and after makes it less sexy -- makes it too clinical, strips things down to bare bones, no heat, no excitement, no risk. there's something to be said for slapdash, wild-night hook-ups, corry can't deny that.
but he woke the next morning and couldn't hop on a plane, distance himself, hide any spark of genuine in plausible deniability. he had to choose who he was here, in saltburnt, rakish heartbreaker or seasoned professional (the other aspects not an option, not here, not with the repeat visitors to his room, his bed, his arms, not with bob). and there's a house filled with muggy heat in his head, slamming doors and stomping feet, and the idea of being lumped in that category somewhere in bob's mind, even for an instant, makes corry sort of want to die.
so: talking.]
I know you know, baby. But I'm gonna tell you again, show you over and over. Your job's to be honest with me, yeah? Tell me if it stops being good-scary. Tell me to stop, if you need to stop. Can you do that for me?
[ i’m gonna tell you. i’m gonna show you. just as dangerous as any trip back to that hothouse. too kind, too good not to catch on the groove in his skull. ]
i can
[ probably. it helps that corry asks for it preemptively, so if he had to pick between going along with something or being a problem, he has more reason to choose the latter option. ]
Don't tell me not to do something, cause I'm the kinda guy who's gonna wanna do it even MORE. C'mon, that's literally the most obvious thing about me. 100%'s been pretty goddamn great. Zero complaints. So there.
[traumadumping as foreplay -- shockingly effective.]
Maybe I like saying nice stuff to you. Like it better in person, like that grin you get when I say it, like I tricked you into being happy before you remember to doubt it. I can imagine it pretty damn well, though. Imagine a lotta stuff about you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Easy mistake to make.
[there's a brief pause wherein corry considers whether he is the one in the wrong, being inherently normie, or whether this place is just sort of batshit insane. as always, the answer is evident.]
That's fucked up too. These guys killed your friends -- eviscerate them, sounds like -- but they get a pass because...what, death doesn't stick here?
Doesn't make you a bummer, Bob, makes you a guy who cares about who's his. Makes you human.
I mean.
Someone puts their hands on someone of mine, I'm haunting them for the rest of their lives. However many lives they got doesn't matter, just more opportunities to make them pay.
[normal guy stuff to say! anyways!]
Best seat in the house's gonna be the one you bring, sweetheart. Big fan of that one. One of my favorites.
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you only gotta ask
[ :) ]
no that’s exactly how i feel
i told saber im never shutting up, even if he has his bundy girls defending him, and the second he looks at my friends again, i’m launching him through a fucking window
that’s half the reason i’m ani’s bodyguard at the slip
the last girl who turned him down had her head bashed in with a rock
her name was sarah, and she didn’t come back with the others
[ it feels important, somehow, to remember her name. nobody else does. ]
then i’ll be there, corry
you’re like
the best person they’ve brought here in ages
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[if he jokes, he won't have to think about the little flutter the thought gives him.]
Pausing momentarily to give the deeply hot bodyguard-Bob mental image the respect it deserves.
All right, anyway -- good on you.
Don't let anyone make you feel stupid for that, hear me?
You're allowed to protect your people. You're allowed to remember who hurt them and who hurt you and you don't owe them shit.
Sarah.
We know why she didn't come back?
[best person -- undeserved, unwarranted, selfishly taken and held somewhere, locked into a safe with the memory of how bob grins when he's blissed out and hazy, how he looks in corry’s bed.]
Nah, I'm a dick.
Probably distract you from the show if you sit by me, piss everyone else off.
Dick move. Dick guy. Big dick. Etc.
Hang around the good ones, though, so maybe it'll rub off on me. Wouldn't mind you rubbing off on me, sometime. 😏
[old man uses emojis to flirt, news at 11.]
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or i’ll try not to
we don’t know why
it happened to one person who died in october the previous year too
so just be careful
and call me if you ever need help
[ when they’ve had two okay months, which means something bad is coming, surely — when corry is here and trying to make him feel better. ]
you keep saying you’re a dick
but you’re nice to me
so i guess i’m sitting by you and letting you piss everyone else off
they can charge me for aiding and abetting or whatever
no subject
As long as you wanna. Doesn't make you a bad person for not getting over it in three months.
October, right. Things happen in waves -- cycles, whatever.
Good month, bad month.
January was more good than bad, excluding the damn portrait jumpscare, so we're overdue?
You'll be the first one I call if shit goes sideways, sweetheart, I promise.
[murder and mayhem and malice in february mean nothing to corry right now, a man of the moment, softening at aiding and abetting like its valentines flowers.]
Yeah, cause I'm sweet on you.
Shhh. Don't blow my cover, its a secret.
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it means a lot to hear that
[ both that the turmoil he still feels is valid and that corry would kill him. hopefully the latter is true.
he types and deletes you saw someone in the portraits? probably most people do. it’s invasive enough that it happened at all, without bob gawking. ]
i can keep quiet
depending on what i get for it
no subject
As many times as you need.
[deliberate echo back -- make it quiet as often as you need. another offer, another tether, dangerous and risky and impossible to resist making.]
I like you noisy.
But I'd like to see how quiet you can be, too. If I told you to.
If I said I wanted you to be very, very good for me.
Could you, then?
covering every autocorrect typo in my last tag
[ making it quiet, assuring him, actually fucking listening to him —
and, of course, this. ]
if you wanted
if you told me to
yeah
it’d be hard, but i could do it for you
the way I did not even question because ur perf
[silly, corny, balancing out the fact that he wants to offer to eviscerate anyone who's ever made bob miserable -- in a casual, chill way of course.]
I bet you could.
You're so good at being good for me.
Of course, I have a very, very good memory. I remember exactly what made you so noisy for me, all the times before.
How much you like my hand in your hair, my fingers in your mouth. How to make you whine for me.
I could make things even harder. Think you could still be nice and quiet, sweetheart? Even if I'm trying my best to make you moan my name?
🥹
[ soooo fond. ]
c’mon
that wouldn’t be fair at all
i’d try but i might
i might mess up y’know
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No, not fair at all.
Absolutely unfair, playing when I know I can make you lose.
What do you think will happen if you mess up, with me?
Think I'll be nice and forgiving, or think I'll be stern about it and punish you?
[not the actual question -- he can do either, be either, be indulgent or the disciplinarian. the real question is, which does bob want?]
🔞 + vague refs to child abuse
(give him a moment to scream into his hands, face impossibly hot.) ]
you could punish me
if you wanted
[ strange, that where he had to say to embry. just don’t hit me, not in the face, not like that, corry already knows it’s a fine line to tread. ]
and you could be stern but not
i think it’d be hard if you thought i wouldn’t get better
🔞 & more child abuse cw (lmao???)
but he thinks about the full-body shiver when he'd swatted bob's ass the last time they were together, thinks about how when corry'd got it right, got it good, pain became another door out of that blank static. he thinks about another way to make things quiet.]
You don't need to get better, sweetheart. There's not a damn thing wrong with you.
If you mess up, it's cause I rigged it, made it impossible from the start, cause I WANTED you to get all noisy and needy for me.
If I turn around and put that on you, I'm not doing my job. My job's taking care of you, remember?
So I correct you cause it's fun, then I make it a game you can win next time. You let me punish you because you know it's not your fault and we're just playing, and I make it easier. Give your pretty mouth something else to do so you don't lose next round.
Make sense?
communication is sexy??? (cw refs to dubcon, unsafe sex)
those people never really talked to him, before or after, and they probably never could have understood, the way corry already does. ]
makes sense
i know you wouldn’t
i know you’d take care of me, i mean
no subject
but he woke the next morning and couldn't hop on a plane, distance himself, hide any spark of genuine in plausible deniability. he had to choose who he was here, in saltburnt, rakish heartbreaker or seasoned professional (the other aspects not an option, not here, not with the repeat visitors to his room, his bed, his arms, not with bob). and there's a house filled with muggy heat in his head, slamming doors and stomping feet, and the idea of being lumped in that category somewhere in bob's mind, even for an instant, makes corry sort of want to die.
so: talking.]
I know you know, baby.
But I'm gonna tell you again, show you over and over.
Your job's to be honest with me, yeah? Tell me if it stops being good-scary. Tell me to stop, if you need to stop.
Can you do that for me?
no subject
i can
[ probably. it helps that corry asks for it preemptively, so if he had to pick between going along with something or being a problem, he has more reason to choose the latter option. ]
i will
plus i could benchpress you, remember?
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[fond, bemused:] You think I've stopped thinking about you benchpressing me for more than ten seconds since I found out you could?
Nah. Solid 12% of brain processing power devoted to benchpressing fantasy at all times.
15% if I'm real horny about it.
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that’s just the benchpressing huh
so i get another 5-10% for all the other stuff you’re thinking about?
lucky me
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we’re looking at 60-115% on bob reynolds, seriously?
you might wanna get that checked
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So I can't contain more than 100%? I'm magnificent, I could do 300% Bob Reynolds if I wanted.
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that’s a fatal dosage
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100%'s been pretty goddamn great. Zero complaints. So there.
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now you’re just saying stuff to get in my pants
which you do not have to do
you already got me
no subject
Maybe I like saying nice stuff to you.
Like it better in person, like that grin you get when I say it, like I tricked you into being happy before you remember to doubt it.
I can imagine it pretty damn well, though. Imagine a lotta stuff about you.
Yeah?
[hah. hm.]
Yeah, I got you, baby.
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